Rhyme, rhythm, meter.
I don’t know what that means.
I know words.
Feelings.
Taste.
Touch.
Love.
I know the river at sunrise.
And the smell of pepper.
Things that matter.
Things that don’t.
Brilliant in its simplicity. I like this poem very much. Fran x
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I enjoyed this poem, Alice. Of course, I think the hard core poetry critics would say that, in your world, prose matters but poetry doesn't. I am not one of them. A treat! Best to you, Matt